


и первой нежностью томим

by raskindly



Category: Gintama
Genre: Fluff, M/M, drunk katsura
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-01 23:11:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19187185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raskindly/pseuds/raskindly
Summary: katsura is very drunk, gintoki's joking around





	и первой нежностью томим

– Are you done? 

Katsura made an unintelligible sound, completely ignoring Gintoki. He didn’t let go of a flask of wine sheathed with braided leather. Gintoki’s facial expression was unreadable as he watched a white ribbon that held Katsura’s hair up slide down onto his lap. Katsura tossed his hair back in an unconsciously graceful gesture, knocking back the flask and letting the wine drip down his chin. Gintoki didn’t know if that was intentional or accidental, but assumed the latter, as it was his own flask. Katsura’s one was lying nearby, cold void of the universe gaping at them from a narrow bottleneck. Gintoki sighed and attempted to stop him yet again.   
– You’re bo-oring. – Katsura giggled drunkenly and wiped his mouth with a back of his hand. His cheekbones looked like they were dusted gently with carmine powder.  
– And you’re wasted.   
– I’m completely, – Katsura pointed a finger at Gintoki, – fine. – He tried to get up to prove himself, which didn’t quite impress Gintoki.   
– If we’re still playing charades, let me guess – you’re a beheaded chicken. – Katsura didn’t have time to reply, and Gintoki barely had time to catch him: Katsura staggered, barely managing not to fall over. By grabbing Gintoki’s hands.   
– And I’m a mother teaching a toddler how to walk. – Gintoki raised his arms up higher. In the meantime Katsura kept staring intently at his own fingers, smiling absently. 

Gintoki gave a hem. Drunk Takasugi was relaxed and a little bit less of a disgusting snobby asshole, even though he immediately made up for it afterwards. Sakamoto… Sober or drunk, Gintoki never made out the difference. This made him wonder if Tatsuma was an amanto with some sort of everlasting alcohol in his blood. Katsura… oh, Katsura. As soon as he had a few sips of anything stronger than barley tea, he started looking like he’s learned the answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything else. Gintoki’s imagination wasn’t quite admirable to think out the rest. Still, such an irritatingly meaningful smile could only belong to someone who knew something extraordinarily important – something that was whispered into his ear, barely audible, and now belonged to him and him only. 

Katsura reeled, and a thick strand of hair slipped from behind his shoulder, smacking Gintoki on the nose. He sneezed.   
– Boring. – Katsura finally ceased observing his fingernails and focused his glare on Gintoki’s nose instead.   
– Is my face more fun than my words? – He couldn’t hold back a chuckle, but it stuck in his throat as Katsura made an almost heroic – in his state, that is – gesture, placing his palms on Gintoki’s head. He buried his fingers in Gintoki’s unruly curls, entangling them even more. Gintoki was tempted to write it off to Katsura suddenly finding the idea of breaking his neck by his weight attractive, if it weren’t for the noises he made. It was a strange sound: an ecstatic sigh, bordering on gentle murmur. Gintoki froze, still holding up his hands. 

– So soft and fluffy, can I touch them?   
– You’re supposed to ask before doing, Zura, where are your manners?   
– It’s not Zura, it’s Ka-tsu-ra. – This typical phrase was supposed to sound annoyed, yet it was weirdly absent, almost playful. Gintoki blinked and his arms down. Did he mishear that? 

His hope that Katsura’s gonna grow bored didn’t last long. These deliberate, occasionally awkward motions of his alcohol-sluggish hands brought an actual dog’s pleasure. Indeed, Gintoki thought, only a dog could possibly enjoy being pet like that. And he was starting to enjoy that. Shit. Katsura kept meticulously fiddling with strands of his hair, pulling them gently between his fingers until he sat down. Sat down? More like collapsed next to Gintoki, and only a miracle kept him from getting entangled in their clothes and legs. Gintoki felt Katsura’s hot breath on his cheek and squinted to catch Katsura’s shining look. He cleared his throat before speaking.   
– Are you done playing? – He was genuinely hoping he sounded lazy and bored instead of hoarse and unsure. Katsura came to, pulling his hands back to lay them carefully on his lap. – Made a wisp outta my hair.   
– Not at all! – Katsura raised his head abruptly, trying to excuse himself. – I just… I liked it. Are you mad at me? – He glanced at Gintoki.   
– Yup. Gin-san’s gotta shave himself to restore his gorgeous natural perm ruined by a drunk barbarian. And where’s a shaved head to go at these times? Might as well become a monk. You’ve doomed me to a life of wandering, hunger, and self-restriction. – He sighed dramatically. Katsura immediately felt a burning guilt inside him, fueled by a fairly weak logical chain. He turned around and put a hand on Gintoki’s chest, looking into his eyes.   
– ‘m sorry.   
– “Sorry” won’t fix my hair. – Gintoki stared Katsura down, and he replied with the same stubborn look. His face, only inches apart from Gintoki’s, looked even more flushed. Gintoki studied it with great attention, starting with short, but thick eyelashes and finishing with a fresh scratch on his chin. Yet another chance to ensure he knows Katsura by heart. Katsura apologized again, this time with more pressure, still staring at him out of pure stubbornness and unwillingness to lose in this unannounced competition. 

– Zura, you reek.   
– I’m Katsura. – His usual annoyed tone was back.   
– Zura, if you don’t move away, I’ll kiss you.   
– Katsu… – His bleary look cleared up for a second before he opened his eyes properly, – what? – Gintoki was pleased to notice Katsura’s voice fail him for a second like his own moments ago.   
– That. Don’t you wanna gain more experience? Gin-san’s infamous tongue isn’t only good for speeches. – Gintoki admired Katsura’s lost unbelieving expression for a few more seconds, then laughed heartily. – I’m joking, you drunken idiot.   
– No, you, – Katsura shoved his shoulder, trying to chase away a sudden slight discontent. – Watch your damn tongue.   
– You didn’t move away. – Gintoki grabbed his palm, laughter still bubbling somewhere within his ribcage.   
– So what? – Katsura tried to get his hand out of this hot grip. He didn’t wanna drink anymore, instead he’d love to get the hell outta here and get some sleep. Preferably in some distance from Gintoki.   
– So that: you’ve already imagined me leaning towards you. You know, like in an anime. Or a dorama. – Gintoki’s voice went down a notch, making Katsura swallow nervously. – Didn’t you?   
– So what. – Offense was always the best kind of defense. – It’s kinda natural to imagine what you’re told. That’s how brains work and you’re stupid for not knowing.   
– And you liked it, but you don’t wanna admit it. – Gintoki continued, their noses almost touching. Katsura didn’t reply, pursing his lips slightly. Ain’t no way in hell he’d let Gintoki floor him, if he’s so eager to play. – You’re blushing.   
– I’m drunk. – Gintoki raised his eyebrows, touching Katsura’s cheek. Katsura swallowed again – somehow moving away simply didn’t come to mind. This whole situation felt like a deep dive into a book: he couldn’t resist turning yet another page to learn how it’s gonna end.   
– You know, you could touch my hair while we’re doing that.   
– Doing what?   
– Kissing.   
– We aren’t kissing, that was a joke. – Katsura wanted to add something, but fell silent. Seconds later he raised his hands, sticking his fingers into Gintoki’s hair again.


End file.
